


Curtains

by elaine



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-28
Updated: 2011-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:44:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elaine/pseuds/elaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim contemplates the difference between curtains and doors. a ficlet for Sentinel Thursday prompt "curtains"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curtains

Curtains, Jim thought, resignedly. The curtains had seemed like a good idea when Blair moved in. A temporary measure that gave him a bit of privacy and Jim the illusion, sometimes, that he still lived alone. Not to mention, they hid the disaster zone that was once Jim’s spare room cum office and now Sandburg’s bedroom.  
  
He rolled onto his back, one arm over his forehead and stared up at the clouds, grey against a backdrop of pure black with a faint scattering of stars. What curtains didn’t do was muffle the quiet sounds of Sandburg whacking off at night. Jim sighed and his right hand twitched, but he wasn’t going there, no matter how hard his dick got, or how painfully his balls knotted up. That way lay madness and infinite regret.  
  
Trouble was, he couldn’t even blame Blair. He tried to be discreet, but with a sentinel for a roommate that was never going to be very successful. It wasn’t Blair’s fault that the curtains didn’t hold back the scent of his musk when he beat off on Thursday afternoons while Jim was at work. It wasn’t Blair’s fault that the sound of the TV or the CD player didn’t quite cover the rustle of a hand moving inside clothing in the evenings. And it certainly wasn’t Blair’s fault that Jim was listening to him right now; he always waited a good half hour after Jim went to bed before he got started.  
  
Not that Jim hadn’t wondered. He wouldn’t put it past Blair to play to an audience.  
  
He was also pretty sure that, if he went downstairs and pulled the curtains aside, Blair would welcome him into his bed as easily as he’d inveigled himself first into Jim’s life and then into his home. That was the problem. It all just seemed a bit too easy for Blair, and nothing was ever easy for Jim. He didn’t trust ‘easy’.  
  
When they’d first met, Jim had given Blair about a week before he bailed. He’d been too willing to jump into the whole sentinel thing, not to mention the cop thing, for Jim to feel that he had any idea of what it would involve. But Blair had surprised him and stuck to it through some nerve wracking situations – Jim still had to repress a shudder every time he thought about Lash. Jim had just about been ready to trust Blair, to – maybe – make a move, a casual suggestion; and then came that damnable phone call.  
  
The thought that Blair had been seriously contemplating abandoning him for a year or more – probably, being realistic, forever – that had been a douche of icy cold reality check. And now, even though Blair had backed him up as reliably as ever down in Peru, even though he’d decided not to head off to Borneo, Jim wasn’t ready to let it go. He’d been burned too many times already to take a chance on screwing up a relationship that he desperately needed to work.  
  
So there would be no going downstairs and pushing aside of any curtains. Not tonight, at least.  
  
The hitching sound of Blair’s breath told him the kid was close, and Jim’s dick throbbed in sympathy. God. He rolled onto his side and pressed down, painfully hard, but it was too late. Jim bit his lip as he came, and heard Blair sigh quietly and nestle deeper into his comforter.  
  
Tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow, he’d go to Home Depot and get some damned doors.


End file.
